NGE: Runaways
by hidinginplainsight
Summary: The angels have stopped coming, and humanity has begun to consume itself alive. Tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling... Rated M for violence, language, and some sexual content. Just so we're all aware.
1. S: Tokyo-3, 2019

_The enemy of my enemy is an angel,  
For it is under his sword that we unite,  
And in his absence, we die by suicide_

– Alexander the Great (attributed)

* * *

Five minutes until takeoff and I have no idea what to say. I'm just staring at this stupid coffee and feeling her eyes on the side of my head. I can feel her seething, but I don't know what she wants from me. She's the one running away.

I clear my throat and wonder what wisdom Misato imparted. She probably had something prepared – I hadn't even thought of it until just now. I guess I didn't really want to believe it was happening.

"I... I hear it's really bad over there," I mumble. Asuka shrugs.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as people say. You know how these stories get exaggerated."

"Yeah, I guess."

And then we lose the thread. Four minutes to go and all I can think about are all the times she's mistreated me, and all the bad blood between us that I want to clear up before she leaves. We were getting better, but we had a ways to go and there was always more time. I hate this I hate this _I hate this_ _say something you idiot_!

"Rei's uh... she's really sorry she couldn't be here."

Asuka snorts. "Is she now?"

"Yeah, she told me to say bye to you, too."

"Well tell her that's very nice, but that after several years of passive-aggression this whole friendship thing probably isn't going to happen."

"Asuka-"

"It's fine. Really," Asuka stretches and cracks her back. "I'm not exactly torn up by any of this. A couple of weeks at Euro Division and I'll be the greatest Evangelion pilot on _two_ continents. I'm good at making friends, Shinji."

Liar. Misato and I are the only ones even here.

I want to tell her I'll write to her, but I'm not even sure that's true. She'll be traveling, and even though we're enlisted it'll still be classified, I'm sure. The new rules are still really confusing to me. I feel like they never tell me anything. Which I suppose makes them remarkably similar to the _old_ rules.

Three minutes. Misato could probably tell me her bases at least, but I have a feeling that even asking means that in three weeks I'll just be sitting at a desk, staring at a piece of paper, still completely wordless.

Three weeks without Asuka seems like an unknowable expanse of time. Honestly, it's not even like we're that close it's just... she's always been there. _Always._ Since fourteen, through the Angels and the siege and the fall and now the war, she's been Asuka. She's been a pillar when I've crumbled like a house of cards, and as embarrassing as it is to admit, I've needed her. This all feels wrong – something that's not supposed to have worked out this way.

I want to tell her that I don't want her to leave, but I already know I wouldn't have a reason why. She's the last friend I have.

If Asuka feels any of this, she makes no sign of it. "Well," she picks up her bag, "guess there's no sense just waiting around here." We stand, awkwardly facing each other.

Two minutes left, and I can't even open my mouth. After a moment of inaction, Asuka begins to turn away.

Stopping herself halfway, she turns back and pulls me into her body. Hugs are a rarity for her, and for a moment, it feels like she's told me her darkest secret. So you _are_ afraid.

Finally I manage to say something: "Do you think we'll ever see each other again?"

I can feel a smile bloom against my ear. "Of course we will, idiot." Asuka holds me for another moment, and releases.

She smiles her devil's grin, waving a hand as she walks towards the airplane. "See you in another life, Third." Then she's lost in the great metal maw of another ugly machine.

* * *

On the ride back to headquarters, homeless children throw rocks at the windows of our car. One of them recognizes me and tries to break in through the windshield, but they back off when Misato shows them her gun.

The rest of the ride is quiet and boring.

* * *

We're not ten steps into headquarters when Hikari rushes up to salute Misato.

"Colonel!" Misato signals and Hikari slackens. She's always been a stickler for rules. I don't even think we're required to salute out of uniform. "The commander's expecting Shinji-kun upstairs."

And them I'm in an elevator. After so many years of traveling down into the Geofront, the new vertically reconfigured headquarters still throw me for a loop. The Nerv Tower is a hundred stories high, and almost a mile long. It's a ziggurat. I get dizzy when I think about how many people live inside of it.

But that's not my job. Piloting is.

I wonder if Asuka's falling asleep on her plane ride.

The doors open and I'm staring at the smiling face of Major General Charles Ng, acting commander.

"Shinji!" Ng only transferred to Nerv six months ago, but he greets me like we're old friends. "Please, take a seat."

I do, and the chair is that fake kind of comfortable you find in banks. Surface comfortable. Soft, but sitting for too long in any one position is impossible. Ng is pouring me some green tea.

"What would you like to talk about, sir?"

"You can drop the 'sir', Shinji. This isn't any sort of formal meeting; I just want to talk." Ng slides my tea towards me. The direction of the cup leads my gaze out Ng's window. Tokyo-3 sprawls out in every direction, its Evangelion standing on guard like giant, living gods. I wonder who's on patrol now? Maybe Kensuke. He used to be so quick to volunteer, but I think the charm's finally starting to wear off on him.

"I just don't know how you Japanese do it. Matcha is just so _bitter_." Ng is dropping sugar into his tea. "But then again, I suppose it's all just what you're used to. Ever been to America?"

"Only on assignment."

"Visit New York some time. I just love it. Next time you have leave, you should go do the tourist thing. Visit the underwater city and all that. It's really humbling, in a way. They were a superpower once, you know."

"Is this about Asuka leaving, sir?"

"I told you not to call me 'sir'." He's smiling, but his voice carries the unmistakable air of a command. After a pause, he puts down the spoon and picks up his tea. "But yes, this is about that. Her reassignment was unfortunate, but necessary. How are you feeling?"

Hollow.

"Fine."

He smiles again, knowing it's a lie. "I take the mental health of my pilots very seriously. If you need someone to talk to about this, don't hesitate to call in to my office. I'll clear my schedule immediately." I stare at his tea leaves. Their momentum has begun to slow, and they're sinking to the bottom of his glass, like a tank full of fish that have all given up on swimming. "Or if you'd prefer, I can refer you to someone. Just say the word, Shinji. Nothing gets better if you just ignore it."

I nod, thanking him.

After several moments of silence, Ng dismisses me. He speaks up again when I reach the elevator.

"I understand that Colonel Katsuragi's car was attacked on the way home?" he chuckles. "These protestors, they're really getting out of hand. Don't they know we're what's keeping them alive?"

The doors slide shut behind me and I know all those children are dead.

* * *

We were so happy when the Angels stopped coming. We were so happy and young and naïve to think that this meant anything good at all.

My father's plan was discovered and he was jailed. Seele was hunted down and destroyed. Nerv was gutted and its technology was sold. We became a private military corporation, carrying out police action for countries and businesses that would hire us. I thought a lot about leaving, but I didn't know where I would go. With no Angels to battle and incredible weaponry on our hands, there wasn't much to do besides squabble over what land remained above water. It's not about the land or country, anyway. If only it _were_still about what flag was flying.

We used to fight to keep humanity safe. Now we fight the other private military corporations, when and where we're told, so people can work at plants making bullets and rebuilding hospitals we destroy and the world can keep turning. A wartime economy is a healthy economy and with PMC enrollments steadily rising, unemployment is at its lowest point since the Second Impact. Or so I'm told. I don't really know if that's true.

All I know is that I'm trapped fighting a war that doesn't matter and my last best friend just left for the other side of the world and I didn't even have the courage to tell her how much I need her to stay.

And for the first time in my life, I'm praying for Angels.

* * *

I put my hand on Rei's shoulder and I feel her warmth through the restraints. She meets my eyes and holds them for a moment longer than is necessary. I think I'm the only one that visits anymore, especially after we all found out what she actually is. Rei was never exactly popular for her personality.

I unpack a lunch for her and set it in between us on the floor. They've given her a table, but the chairs are so uncomfortable. After a while we both just started sitting on the floor.

I take the key and slowly unlock her arms. Rei wordlessly stretches her arms, and takes the chopsticks, sitting down to consume. I try to cook foods I know she likes, but I can never tell if she's just being polite.

"Do you think she's alright?" I ask, nervously. It feels cruel to mention worldwide travel to a prisoner, but I'm too preoccupied to talk about anything else. It's been four long, screaming, silent months.

"Sohryu is quite talented," Rei remarks, quietly. "I'm sure she's surviving."

She glances up from her food to ask, "Do you miss her?"

I nod, noncommittally. I miss her like hell.

With Asuka gone, there's no one left to talk to. I want to ask Rei more, but it's hard to come up with meaningful topics of conversation when you know you're being monitored. I'm sure Ng will be scrubbing this tape later, so I want to make sure I choose my words carefully, for her sake.

It's hard not to stare at her body. Needle marks snake down her arms where they've drawn tissue and injected nutrients. Her hair is long and shaggy, her muscles weak and small. I can still see the scars on her wrists from when they let her still live alone. She looks as if she would shatter with the slightest fall.

_Christ Rei, what have they done to you?_

Misato and I have been pushing for Ng to give her more exercise and time outside, but I don't know if he actually does it as regularly as he promises he does. She's not human to him. She's the last of a tank full of clones that's been gifted to science; she's a failed experiment to be sampled and studied. I guess that also makes him not that much different from my father.

I hear she doesn't even talk anymore unless I'm the one speaking to her.

I've been there. I've been to the edge of reason and I've been pulled back. Asuka and I have pulled each other back more times than I can count. Rei is human; it just makes people uncomfortable to think about it.

One time, when I was sure we were alone, I asked Rei if she ever thought about trying to escape from Nerv. After several moments' consideration, she swallowed some of the food in her mouth and she said, "That would be a lot of effort for life in a bigger cage."

* * *

Misato tells me for what might be the hundredth time that she doesn't know where Asuka is. The information is classified, and that no news is good news. KIAs aren't classified. There's a board in Control that would light up and tell us.

I ask her for a reassignment and I can see her mouth tighten. After looking over her shoulder, she pushes me into an empty room.

"Do you really even think that's an option?" She's whispering, but in the quiet, dark room it sounds like a scream. "Open your fucking _eyes,_ Shinji. I've been doing the best I can to keep you three safe. You're his _son. _Do you want to end up like Rei?"

Her voice cracks, and I feel her arms wrap around my back. "I'm doing the best I can, I swear..." Hot tears press against my cheek. Her legs are giving out from under her, and I hold her up.

She clings to me like I'm a life raft. Her nails are digging into my back, through the cloth. "Would he be proud?" she whispers, "I don't know what to do, anymore. There aren't any answers. Would he be proud? Would he still love me?" I stroke her hair to calm her and I tell her what she wants to hear.

After several minutes, Misato picks herself up, wiping her face clean.

"I hate this as much as you do, but we've got to play along. You're practically full-grown. Next month I'm legally relieved of my guardianship. It's time to pick what's important to you and do anything to keep it safe."

She straightens her uniform and steps out of the room, leaving me alone with the darkness closing in from every direction.


	2. A: Occupied Germany, 2020

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Not with the battle. We're on schedule – UNA's troops are just late. They'll appear, and we'll kill them or we'll die and life will go on. That's not the issue. War is war is war, full of machines and wheels turning.

No, it's Nerv. They're sandbagging me I can feel it. I knew it would be different in Euro, but their communications blackouts are insane. Ever since Europe fell, all the phones have been out. I expected it to be difficult to get word back to Japan, but this is ridiculous. No net, no phones, no letters. It's practically been half a year.

It's not just the phones, either. Every question leads to a roadblock. I ask about objectives and they tell me they're classified. I ask about Shinji and they tell me he's on assignment. Excuses, lies, and misdirection – it was subtle at first, but now... well... something is rotten. I can smell it festering in the air.

Control buzzes in to tell us that the troops from United North America are finally dropping in.

"Fuckin' finally," Karin, as always, is the most eager.

She's a bloodthirsty maniac, but she's survived nearly two-dozen battles with me, so on some level I guess that makes her my friend. I can certainly trust her to kill well. I don't even remember the other girl's name. She wore glasses. Something with an 'R' I think.

Suddenly, there's a glow in the sky; that's the preemptive N2. The states like to nuke everything before they jump in – practically their trademark. Karin and I dodge for cover and brace behind a large outcropping hill. I try to shout a warning to our third, but it's too late. The charge detonates. There's a scream, and I see R's Evangelion fly by us, engulfed in flames. I cut the radio comm so I don't have to hear her suffer. She stumbles into the middle of the nearby field and I watch as a spear punctures her face, traveling down through her throat and coming out the other end. That's the last she ever moves. The first UNA Evangelion lands right afterwards.

"Ready, Sohryu?"

Of course I am.

Karin and I spin from behind the building. I provide covering fire as she runs forward with her trident. It's a disgusting, barbaric weapon. That's why it suits her – lets her get bloody up to her elbows.

The UNA Evangelion takes five rounds in the chest from my rifle and collapses across a river. Karin leaps on top of him and skewers him alive. Hands come up in protest, but the gesture is out of desperation. Her trident has barbs. His stomach is already strewn across the grassy field.

Movement to my right. Spinning, I catch the second Eva with my bayonet as it's landing. In one move, I slice its right arm and leg clean off. Its gun lands next to some cows 400 meters away, the severed arm still clutching helplessly at the trigger. I raise my gun to finish the job when I'm struck from behind.

Their third tackles me to the ground, and we fly through a windmill that must be two hundred years old. It shatters under me and I can feel the splinters bite into my stomach. He drives his knee into my spine as an arm around my neck starts to cut off my breath.

Thinks he can choke me alive. It's gutsy, it but smacks of inexperience. He should have used his prog knife. I position my shoulder under his jaw and I fire buckshot upwards. His head explodes upwards in a fountain of red. His blood tickles as it runs down my cheek. The Evangelion collapses against my back, and I shrug off its dead weight.

Turning, I see the second unit crawling feebly away on a single arm and leg like a dying animal. Picking up my gun, I make my way back towards it to finish the job.

When I'm halfway there the plug ejects, and his Eva slackens. _The coward._ The plug skitters across the grassy hills, carving a path through the grass before it comes to rest halfway submerged in a nearby river.

By the time I arrive, the pilot's already climbing out. He's got brown hair, tall. Handsome for his age. _Christ, he must be fourteen._

I raise my rifle, and he stops dead in his tracks, thigh-high in murky water. LCL drifts lazily down the current from where it spilled out of his ejected cockpit. I'm about to kill him, when all of my muscles contort.

_It's Suzuhara._ Touji. I haven't thought about Touji in years. My breath catches in my throat, and I'm staring into the eyes of a ghost.

"Sohryu!" he screams, "Asuka! Help me!" He's yelling at me like I can possibly do anything when he's so small. My brain tells me that this isn't real, and that 14-year-old Touji disappeared a long time ago, but I also know he's _right there_.

"Please!" he begs. "We went to school together! Don't you remember me?!" He takes out his wallet, and shows me a picture of Hikari. "Asuka, I'm your-"

Then, Karin cleaves him in half. I watch the sum of his parts arc through the air before they drop down into the water. The river becomes a deeper red.

"What were you _doing?_" she asks, annoyed with me. "Didn't you see his gun?" Now, blinking, I can make out the missile launcher he had trained on me, bumping against his torso in the current. It disappears under a stone bridge with the rest of his body.

"Jesus, Sohryu," I can hear Karin's exasperated sigh over the radio as the helicopters come in for our extraction. "Get your shit together. You want to end up like Rachel?"

* * *

When the phones come back in occupied Berlin, the first thing I do is call Japan. Dialing through official channels is an exercise in futility. I hang up angrily, so fucking pissed off that I slam my hand into the side of the booth. It takes all my effort not to break the damn thing in half. Something is rotten, and I feel a cold pull of fear pulling at the pit of my gut. I exit the booth so the line of others can try and call their families and friends.

Karin is waiting for me at the pub with two civilian boys, one of whom is obviously intended for me. He tries his best, but he's got a _pretty_ high opinion of himself if he thinks that he can bed me that easily. He goes home lonely.

But so do I.

* * *

When I was in Japan, I used to think of Germany as my home, but there's nothing for me here anymore. People gaze at me like stock animals, selling me looted fruit from street vendors for 15 yen. Japan's economy is _thriving_ in comparison. Every country has slums, but Berlin is in shambles. Ten thousand marks couldn't get you a loaf of bread. Europe is worse off than we thought. Why didn't they tell us this?

I feel naked without my sync clips in, but it's become a matter of self-preservation. A group of six boys followed me home several blocks last night before I reached the dorms, leering and smacking their crowbars against dilapidated brick walls. A Nerv pilot got beaten so badly last week that he was hospitalized. The downtrodden and the protestors: I think the net is down so they can't organize.

I wonder if that's why Ng isn't letting me talk to Shinji. When I finally get through to Japan, I'm redirected to his office.

"I'm so sorry, Asuka. Sincerely, I am. You just missed him." I hear his smug smile through the phone – his fake sympathy. "He left for Africa yesterday. You know how Multi National United is acting up down there on the coast. How's our western front?"

I hang up without even asking for Misato. I'm sure she's "abroad" as well.

That night I cling to my pillow. I bury my face deep inside to muffle my voice as much as I can.

I miss him so much it hurts. I want to talk to him, I want to hear his voice and tell him I'm alright and that I'm scared. I'm so, _so_ scared because I _know_ they're blocking me and I don't know what they want or why. Why are they doing this? Why can't I talk to him? Can't we please just talk?

I've done everything they've asked. I've killed and I've killed and I'm sick of the gears and the machinery and the war. I want warmth. I want a smile.

I just want Shinji here. Please, I just want him back...

I put the pillow behind my body. I wrap my arms around myself and pretend he's holding me until I fall asleep.

* * *

I feel like hell. I'm not a coffee person, but I've taken to it lately in the worst way. It's been eight months since I stepped onto a plane in Tokyo-3; I sleep two hours a night. They're going to move soon. I don't know how and I don't know why, but they're out for me. Nerv, someone, all of them, I don't even know anymore. Maybe it's another company working inside of us? Kaji certainly got in easily enough back in the day.

Karin shakes me awake at 2300 and tells me that we're to be deployed to Spanish border immediately. I drink enough tea to stay awake, but with nothing in my stomach I vomit from the plane's turbulence somewhere over occupied France.

Strapped to the bottom of the plane in my Eva, I feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness. I press a few buttons and the plug suit gives me some adrenalin, which at least assures I won't fall asleep again, but my stomach churns dangerously. I've never thrown up into LCL. Not exactly eager to discover what _that_ feels like.

Control tells us we're about to drop, and I brace myself for the fall. I used to _relish_ this. I count down from ten in my head and take a deep breath before I'm released into an empty sky.

I snatch my gun from the air next to me and hone in on our targets: five UNA units are guarding a weapons depot. It's been supplying ammunition to their troops on the French border, and it's up to us to ensure that stops tonight. Me, Karin, and Whomever. I didn't bother asking his name. It doesn't matter, anyway. I train my sights on the first UNA lancer, and its head explodes into fire.

Landing on the mountainside, I eject my spent round. Karin lands right in the thick of them, spinning with her trident and catching one across the eyes. I'm loaded again before they even know they're under attack.

I shoulder my rifle and try to line up a second shot, but everything's moving too quickly. The adrenalin gives me clarity; I just can't make sense of the image. Somewhere in my mind, it looks to me like they're dancing, and I think of Shinji again.

Suddenly, I'm lying on my back and I realize my legs have been swept out from under me. It's our support unit. Why is he here? Why did he do that? My brain sludges sideways through deep water, trying to catch up to what's happening.

"Asuka! Where's my backup?!" Karin's voice over the comm hits a grating screech. I think she's being overwhelmed. The Evangelion above me removes his prog knife and I realize with a sinking feeling that this is it. This was the spring, their plan.

Who's plan is it, again? Was I briefed on the plan?

He strikes me across the face with the hilt of the knife and the rifle tumbles out of my hand.

I realize with a sudden clarity that the entire world is mad. Who am I fighting for? Why am I here? In this country, in this robot, on this mountain, about to die. I don't want to be here. I want to be home in Japan. I want warmth, home and Shinji. It's so cold here.

He lifts me up and I feel the prog knife digging into the nape of my neck. I'm trying to get my leg behind his knee, but I'm barely even fighting anymore, I'm so tired.

Half a mile away, I hear a scream and I see Karin disappear in the madness of the battle. The UNA troops look towards us, but they don't move to intervene or destroy. Is he with them? Are _we_ with them? What is he doing? Why doesn't he just kill me?

I feel a sharp tug at the base of my spine and all my screens go dead. Something scrapes against the tip of the entry plug and I realize he's digging it out with his knife. There's the sense of shifting gravity in the darkness. They're... pulling me out, and then I'm being dropped.

A heavy jerk sends me flying out of my chair. My head smacks against the edge, and I struggle to hold on to what I know might be my last moments. In the darkness, I can almost feel Shinji's arms around me again.

Soon, the door to the plug is pried open. Light floods in with oxygen. LCL gushes out like pus from a wound, and I see two dozen soldiers with guns trained at my face.

Weakly I raise my hands, coughing putrid liquid out of my throat. It's sickly warm as it snakes down my chin.

Against all logic, I smile.

And then I collapse.


	3. S: Tokyo-3, 2020

_AN: Hey guys. Just wanted to write in quickly to say first of all, thank you for all the kind words and follows. It really means a lot to me, so don't think it's unappreciated. A writer is nothing without an audience. J__ust wanted to make a quick note that there will be some sexual content headed your way. Personally, that's the least of your worries with how dark and violent this thing is, but figured it was better to give you a heads up so you can bail out if you're so inclined. It's Rated M for a reason. Thank you again for reading. You guys are the best._

_Then suddenly, happiness:_

* * *

Asuka's laughing so hard that she almost falls over the railing and onto the beach below us.

"Alright, well it's not _that_ funny," I say, slightly annoyed. I wouldn't have told her if I had known that open mockery was going to be this conversation's endgame.

"Haha! No, it really is!" Asuka manages to struggle out through her giggling. "I can just imagine your face!" She steps away from the balcony and mimics pure panic, throwing her arms into the air. "You're busy doing your whole 'S-sorry I just groped you, Wondergirl! Here's your ID card!' And Rei's just _outta _there! She's gone!"

And Asuka dissolves again into hysterics. She turns, leaning against the handrail down on boardwalk, holding her stomach. Looking off across the beach, I see Misato and Hikari trying unsuccessfully to coax Rei into coming out from under her umbrella and into the sun. I don't think Rei was really made for the beach – she's even wearing her school swimsuit. Misato looks up curiously at the sound of Asuka laughing, and I wave good-naturedly. _God, I hope she can't hear this._

Next to me, Asuka manages to reign herself in to a managable giggle and sighs. "It's perfect. That's so her."

"Well, I'm glad you found it so amusing," I remark dryly. I feel Asuka rest her hand on top of mine, and I turn to see she's smiling. She bumps me with her shoulder, trying to show me she means no malice.

"Dummy." I've come to understand that's 'Asuka' for an apology. She squeezes my hand tightly before removing it, turning to look at the beach with me.

I'm smiling now too, though I try not to. I should really be angry at her for laughing at my expense, but it's such a beautiful day. Seven months without Angels means we finally have time for 'kid' things, like going to the beach. Tokyo-3 is slowly coming back to life. The world feels young and perfect.

"But you've gotten to feel Rei's boobs, huh? _That's_ pretty cool. Kensuke would flip." Asuka leans close to me, in lascivious conspiracy. "How big are they really?"

I laugh. I can feel myself blushing. "Are you jealous?"

"Pff! She _wishes_ I were," Asuka pulls away. "I was just curious."

"You change with her!"

"Yeah, but I'm not fucking looking. Jeez," she sighs, "and besides, I'm not really a valid judge. Wanted the opinion of someone who's attracted to them... or whatever..." she's trailed off, looking to the left down the boardwalk at something. I breathe in the ocean air. A bird sings overhead, looking for a mate.

"You _are_, right?" she asks. I blink.

"I am what?"

"You know," she shrugs, "Into girls."

I chuckle. She still hasn't turned back towards me. "Yes, Asuka. Of course I am."

There's a pause as she keeps concentrating on whatever's got her attention down at the end of the boardwalk. Eventually, she turns back towards me, her eyes alight with another joke.

"Well good. Nice to know that Wondergirl's got a shot." She grins at me, lifting herself up on her arms and kicking her bare feet behind her.

It's my turn to 'pff.' I shake my head at her childishness and am ashamed to admit it's totally charming.

"One thing's for sure, though," Asuka says, placing herself back down on the boardwalk. She turns her body towards me, moving her towel aside to reveal her bikini top. "You're never getting a shot at _these_, Ikari."

I arch my eyebrows. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Never," she says triumphantly. "Not in a million, _million_ years."

* * *

I'm in the mess hall when Misato walks in the room, and before she's halfway to me I know that Asuka is dead. She's gone. She's never coming back.

Something falls out of my hand. I feel the earth collapse from beneath my feet and very quickly the whole mess is watching me bawl on the cafeteria floor.

I'm still on the ground when I feel Misato's arms around me. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry..."

* * *

'Missing, presumed dead' is what the official statement reads, sitting on Ng's desk in his office. He sighs mightily, taking off his glasses to rub between his eyes.

"Look, Shinji. I'm not going to lie to you. It doesn't look good," he returns his glasses to his face and places his hands on the desk, over Asuka's face on the paper, between us. "She was deep in enemy territory. Secret mission, dangerous stuff. When her team missed the rensezvous, we sent in a recon plane."

He takes out blurry pictures and spins them towards me on the desk. I pick one up and look at it obligingly, but it doesn't look like much of anything to me. An ultrasound, maybe. The x-ray of a fatal tumor.

"That's the wreckage of at least two Nerv Evas, that we can make out."

"Where was their third?" I ask, and Ng shrugs.

"Maybe they already took his in to scrap? Maybe he ran? His tracker's off radar. It happens." He holds out his hand and I return the photos to him. "I... I won't mince any words here, Shinji. Sohryu's disappearance makes you our most experienced field pilot. I hate to bring this up so soon, but it's possible that you'll be deployed in the coming months to our more high-profile theaters, so I have to ask you directly: are you well enough to fight?"

Did it hurt? Did she suffer? Please, I don't want her to suffer, please say it was quick. I hope against hope that it was painless.

"Shinji?" Ng prods gently, and I look up to him, nodding. I take a sip from the still-steaming tea he's provided.

"Yes, I'll be well enough," I say, numbly. "Whatever has to be done, sir."

* * *

Rei stares at me blankly. She blinks before responding. "Oh," is all she says.

We're standing outside, but the sky is cloudy and threatening rain. It's unseasonably cold, and Rei shivers through her padded outer garb. She stands with one hand resting gently on the chain link fence. The Nerv recreational yard is roughly the size of a city block, grassy and caged for pilots to wander outside, should they so be inclined. Rei can wander with company. It's the only place we're afforded even a modicum of privacy. Beyond the fence are landmines.

"She was a good pilot," Rei remarks softly. I clench my fists, feeling rage boil up from deep inside my stomach.

"A good pilot?!" I spit at her. "Is that all that matters to you? What the hell is wrong with you two? She was your _friend_, Rei!"

"I wouldn't really have said so," Rei mumbles. "She was just someone I knew."

"You fought side by side for _years_!" I scream. "How many times did we almost die out there? Doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

Rei turns her head to the side and meets my eyes. She stares at me glassily, doll like, and her lack of reaction makes me angrier.

"Oh _what_?! What do you care? Weren't you two 'not friends'?" Nothing. Serene as a windless lake. Disgusted, I turn back towards the tower, motioning for the guards across the rec yard. "You know what? Fuck this. You can go rot in your cage for all I care."

As soon as it comes out of my mouth I know it was the wrong thing to say, because I know I'm not actually mad at Rei. Rei didn't take Asuka away from me. I'm using her to vent my rage, because I knew she would respond like this, and it would let me release. I'm _using_ her.

Like Ng and my father.

I motion for her guards to stop, and they return to their post outside the door.

I'm afraid to turn back around, but when I do, Rei's face is as impassive as ever.

"Rei, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Sohryu wasn't my friend, but she was yours, and I care about you." Rei's face moves softly, and I know she's crying, even if no tears fall. "I'm sorry she's gone. I think she loved you very much."

Rei steps past me and walks back towards her prison at the other end of the yard.

* * *

It's quiet in the dark. I hear the hum of Nerv tower through the wall, surrounding me like a beehive, a womb. It's warm and alive. It buzzes with activity even when I'm trying to fall asleep.

Ng's given me leave for the week, but the day after tomorrow I'm to be deployed to Alaska for some ungodly reason. To fight someone. Over something. I guess things have calmed down in Europe.

Even all this time later, mention of her name stings like an open wound. I feel emptied out, and I want the blessed nothingness of sleep, but tonight it just won't come. I turn onto my side and I look at the clock. Nothing's moved.

Closing my eyes, I know what I need to do to sleep. I know what I _want_ to do.

_Use your imagination. Summon her and she's here._

Fuck off. It's wrong and you know it.

_Who will know?_

I will.

_It wouldn't be the first time._

I can't. It'll hurt afterwards.

"_I think she loved you very much."_

I open my eyes in the darkness. After a brief moment of decision I turn and reach for a tissue.

Suddenly I can feel her next to me. Her breath tickles my ear, "What are you doing, dummy?" A whisper in the darkness that no one can hear. She kisses the side of my face and her hand slithers down my stomach.

I stifle a gasp as she takes a hold of me.

"_Wow_," she purrs. "Wondergirl didn't know what she was missing."

"Neither did you," I say. I feel her smile against my cheek.

"One way to fix that," she begins to pick up speed.

I turn my face towards her, eyes still closed. If I open my eyes she'll disappear again forever. Mustn't think about that. Not the truth, not now. Right now, I must run away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

"Tell you what?" Her arm's working quickly now. I can't hold on much longer but I'm doing the best I can. I'm fighting against it. I don't want her to go. I reach up and I touch the side of her face. I feel her warmth, her molten breath against my mouth. I want to kiss her but I can't, I can't even see her. I hear her tongue run across her lips. "What do you want to know, Shinji?"

"Was Rei right?"

She smiles and places her free hand on the side of my cheek. There's a soft laugh in the black. "You idiot," she whispers, and all of a sudden I understand that's her way of saying 'I love you.'

Asuka kisses me, and I cum into a crumpled tissue.

Cold breath hisses in and out of my lungs. She's gone. I'm shivering and I'm horribly alone.

"I love you, too..." I say to no one at all. I'm talking to an empty room.

I toss the tissue into the garbage next to my bed and pull up my boxers. Rolling over onto my side, I face the wall and close my eyes.

I'm so fucked up.

_You're surviving._

Very soon, I fall into a mercifully dreamless sleep.


	4. A: ?¿?¿?¿

I move my hands over soft blankets, and open my eyes. The room is dark, and smells faintly of pine trees. It reminds me of my grandparents home in the mountains, which I haven't visited since I was ten.

I sit up and move to the edge of the bed. Is this a dream or something? I was captured. If they haven't killed me I should be in pain. Hell, at the very least I should be _uncomfortable_.

Well, I'm nearly naked. That's some kind of start. Somebody's taken the liberty to dress me in a cursory set of underwear, but they've taken my plugsuit and the A-10 clips are missing from the top of my head. I can feel their absence in the darkness – the sheets are cold against my skin. I have the presence of mind to feel vaguely violated.

Placing my feet on the wooden floor, I wander over to the sliver of light I see on the wall. I draw the curtains back far enough to peer out.

What the _hell _is going on?

It's a town of some kind, that's for sure. Old European architecture, little huts with red shingles for roofs, all arranged in a row, on a hill overlooking a bay. It's goddamn _cute_. People are wandering the streets like tourists, greeting each other with waves and smiles.

They're wearing uniforms. Is this some kind of penal colony? Where are the guards?

Lights come on in the room, and I jump, despite myself. It's a humble little room, complete with a mirror, a bed, a closet and an open door leading to a small kitchen and presumably the street outside. It's cozy. There's a painting on the wall of a windmill in the countryside – a fisherman lazily casting in the stream. The clock tells me it's a little past eight in the morning.

_Okay..._

Moving to the closet, I shift through clothes. They're all the same uniform – a white shirt, a dark blue skirt, and a matching blazer with a badge on the breast. A large, black number six set against a white wheel.

A shiver runs down my spine.

I dress in silence and when I'm ready I step out the front door, leaving the number on the bed behind me.

I'm accosted by guards before I'm ten steps outside of my house.

They don't have guns. They don't have anything. Something that looks vaguely like a nightstick. They tell me we're going to The Green Dome, and I follow. The gesture is supposed to be threatening, I'm sure, but quite honestly I'm more curious than anything else.

A villager waves to me as we pass. He laughs when I scowl in response.

"Newcomers!" he says to the guard. "She'll straighten out soon enough, eh Seven-Thirty?" As we leave he shoots the guard a strange salute. "Be seeing you!"

* * *

Stairs up, a massive door that opens into a quaint Western sitting room with a fire blazing in the hearth, green doors, stairs down, and finally malice: a large metal door.

It opens into a great chamber of a room. Lofty ceiling, surveilance screens everywhere, ten degrees colder than every other room in the building. Surely this must be the eponymous 'Green Dome', but it feels like a basement. This giant room is totally empty except for a few chairs and a desk with some phones. Everything echoes.

Ten steps in I see the face of my captor, and I freeze in my tracks.

_How?_

"Ah. It's been a while," Fuyutsuki is dropping powder into a small glass of water. He glances at me with marked disinterest as he stirs the solution into the liquid, turning the whole thing a sickly orange color. "I'd ask if you'd been keeping well, but I see you're _here._"

He taps his spoon on the side of the glass and places it onto the silver tray beside him. Taking a cane off the side of his chair, Fuyutsuki stands. He looks fifteen years older. Bleached white hair, a beard over his whole face, but it's him.

I feel a rush of cold air as the door shuts behind me. The guards are gone – it's just me and the old man. I'm embarassed by how nervous I am. I straighten my back, put on my best face and step forward to meet the enemy.

"Let me go," are the first words I've said since I woke up. Fuyutsuki seems unimpressed.

"I'm sure you have questions," he says, slowly making his way around the desk between us. He's leaning heavily on his cane. How old _was_ he anyway? How many years has it been since the trial?

"You were arrested," I say.

"Yes, and have since died. I remember," he chuckles. "Obviously that part was a bit exaggerated." I notice that he's also sporting a number on his uniform: _02._

That smug son of a bitch. Rage seethes beneath my skin and I scowl up at him. Enough bullshit. "Where am I?"

"In The Village."

_Right. Of course. THE Village. _I swallow my insults and focus. Pitching a fit in front of this specter of my past is the last thing I want to do. I'm a soldier. I crack my neck and try to look like a badass. "Whose side are you on?"

"That would be telling_,_" he sips some of his stupid, orange drink. "There's more of this if you'd like–"

"What do you want?"

He smiles. "Information."

I snort. What does that even mean? About the Evas? "Information?"

He nods gravely. Bringing an wizened finger up to his temple, he taps on it. "Information_._"

I clench the fist farthest away from him in anger. He's talking in riddles. Is this some kind of goddamn code? I don't know how to respond.

"You won't get it!" is what I finally come up with. _Wow. Great job. Way to not sound like a twelve year old._

I watch as the smile disappears from his face. "By hook or by crook, we will." He looks downright haunted.

"So this is some kind of, what? Prison camp? 'The Village'? That's cute. Did your husband think of that?" I walk past him to his lunch tray, and pour some orange powder into a vacant cup. "He must be hanging around somewhere. This whole creepy megolomania seems right up his alley. Is he Number One?"

"You are Number Six."

I drop my spoon onto the tray so it makes a clatter. _What the hell does that mean?_ Is that some kind of answer? Is Gendo _not_ involved? That same icy hand grabs at my stomach.

I turn towards him, swirling the orange mess in the glass. _There. Now I have my own damn tang._

"I am not a Number," I begin. "I am Asuka Langley Sohryu, and I will be referred to as such. I will not be pushed. I will not be filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. My life is my own!"

An old man watches as I take a long drink from his property. Its uneven grit annoys my throat on the way down. I drop the glass onto the top of his desk and what remains inside of it spills all across his phones and machinery.

Fuyutsuki stares at me with the strangest frown on his face. It takes me a moment to place the emotion.

_Pity?_ _You sick, ancient fuck. _I sneer at his drooping mouth._ I'll be out of here in fifteen days. _

Without another look, I turn and head to the exit. If this bothers him, he makes no show of it.

"Whatever the hell you people want," I yell as I leave, "you're not getting it from me!"

The door slams behind me.

* * *

_The first night doesn't even seem like a big deal. It was a dream. A ghost in my subconscious mind – sharks in water too murky for me to make out anything but the outline of a malevolent something._

_It's forgotten as soon as I wake up._

* * *

I stare out at the water from the hillside. Other villagers mill around playing chess, talking to each other, commenting on the temperate weather, calling each other by number.

Why don't they break out? Why don't they escape? If there are walls, I don't see any. I look at an old man who laughs at his chess partner and I scowl. _They're not even trying._

On the outskirts of town I pick a direction and run. Wind feels like ice on my face and my breath pounds red in my lungs.

I don't remember exactly how I'm recaptured, but I remember the feeling of suffocation – like saltwater spilling down into my throat. I wake up coughing in a white hospital room, my throat totally dry.

A caucasian woman in her 40s sits next to me, wearing a 02 on her breast. She addresses me in English.

"As you've just discovered, there _are_ perimeter defenses. Were you expecting to just walk out?" she sips some tea and glares down at me. "What are you, _stupid_?"

Ha-ha. I try to swallow. My voice comes out as a whisper. "Who are you?"

"I am the new Number Two."

"Where's the old man?" I ask, trying to sit up. My bones ache. Every part of my body feels like it's frozen. After a few seconds I choke back my embarrassment and just let myself fall back onto the bed.

"His time was over. The management figured he wouldn't provide the results we need, so now I have his job. It's not unusual here. Nice to finally get acquainted," Number Two stands, and walks over towards me. She holds up a small vial in front of my face. "Do you know what this is, Number Six? Does it look familiar?"

She's holding a bottle, inside there's a clear liquid sealed with a black stopper top. It looks like saline solution. I could speculate on two-dozen possible things it might be. I swallow fire again, and draw enough breath to answer: "Go fuck yourself."

She laughs, withdrawing the vial. "Right. Well, not quite. I don't suppose you're in a talking mood, then. You never are." Movement beside me. Suddenly straps are being drawn over my body, and I realize that I'm not in a hospital, but a laboratory. I struggle meekly against the restraints, still groggy whatever the hell they did to me.

"Do you much remember your dreams, Number Six?" Two continues, filling a syringe with the contents of the vial. "I almost never do. It's a shame, really. They say dreams are the windows to our soul."

Two leans against the head of my gurney. She appears upside-down over my face. I track the movement of the needle's tip.

"Or maybe those are the eyes?" I can feel her breath on my forehead. The cold of the needle scrapes along my cheek. "You have such pretty, blue eyes..."

Picking up her arm, she positions the needle right over my left eye. I watch helplessly as it inches closer. The tip blurs out of focus and I know she's going to do it. Every inch of my body is screaming in terror in a primal, uncontrollable panic. _Let me go let me go please. I don't even know what you want. _

"Any more talkative?"

"Go _fuck_ yourself," I manage to whisper.

Two laughs above me. It's a high-pitched sound that grates against my ears. "We do so admire your spirit, little girl. Don't ever think you're not entertaining." She jabs the needle into my arm and depresses the plunger.

"Sweet dreams, Number Six."

And then I black out.

* * *

_I am very young and my father is holding me while I cry. He picks me up onto his lap. I burrow into the warmth of his shoulder and I feel the scratchiness of his beard against my temple._

_There are vibrations in his chest as he speaks gently against me, and I love him because he loves me even if mommy doesn't anymore._

* * *

I wake with a start in my cabin. I know I dreamed, but the memory of it is totally gone. I grasp at its remaining wisps, but they disappear like smoke through my fingers.

Later on, I sit in an outdoor café and try not to enjoy the meal that was dutifully prepared for me. I've barely eaten since my arrival, and honestly I'm starving. I try not to eat too quickly. I'm sure they're watching and I don't want them to consider this a victory.

When I look up across the lawn, I see another girl my age sit down at another table. She's a little apart from everyone else, numbered pin adhered to her chest like an idiot. Am I the only one who doesn't wear mine? After several seconds of staring, I feel a jolt of recognition.

When I make sure she is truly alone, I join her.

"Karin. Karin, thank God. I can't tell you what a relief it is to see you," I try to keep my voice low, but I smile at her widely. "I thought I was the only one they got. Are you okay?"

"N-nice to meet you," she says, meekly. She looks at me with the scared, wide eyes of a caged animal. "I'm Number Thirty-Seven. Isn't it a nice day, Number Six?"

My smile collapses. "What did you call me?" Karin has picked up the menu, but stares through it.

"What are you eating? I'm just famished."

"Say my name," I growl.

Karin hands her menu to a waiter that has appeared. "Oh, that sounds wonderful. I think I'll just have the same as my friend here."

"You know my name. Say it."

"A-actually, I think I should probably be going. After all, 'A million ways to fill the da-'" She starts to stand, but I clamp my hand over hers, and force her back down to the table.

"I am _not_ a number and you know that. I've been here only two days and I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind, so if our time together meant anything to you at all, you're going to **say** **my** **name**."

"Stop it..." her voice is almost inaudible. Her bottom lip trembles as she looks back at me. I've never seen Karin cry. It's pitiful. I should sympathize with her but I'm so unbelievably angry. This is a betrayal. _Please, I'm going crazy. _

"Say it."

"No, I-I can't-"

"Don't you do this. Don't you dare abandon me," my nails dig into the back of her hand. "Here, I'll start it for you. As-."

"Stop!" Karin's yell grates in the middle of the café. Everyone is staring now. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a pair guards start to make their way towards us. Karin struggles to run away from my grip, but I keep my hold. "Stop it! Let me go!"

"Say it, and I will."

"No no no! Not again, _please_!"Karin collapses against the side of the table and starts mumbling into her hand. Rolling onto her back, I see her look up at the sky and repeat words like a mantra. "I am a good Citizen, I will not question Authority. I am a good Villager, I have no Na-"

My hold still on her hand, I drag her off of the table onto the ground. The guards are almost to us. I strike Karin across the face, and she yells out in pain. On the ground with her, I grab the front of her shirt and scream into her face.

"_Say it!_"

"Help me!"

"Say it, you bitch!" I grab her wrist and wring it like a sponge. "What is my name?!"

"Ah! ASUKA!" Karin screams out, tears streaming down her face. "_ASUKA_!"

Releasing her wrist, I stand towering over her. "You're goddamn right."

A boot in my back drops me to my knees. They hit me for what seems like a thousand years. Red hot blood bursts over my brow and obscures my vision. Everything swims.

I vaguely make out the shape of Karin as I'm pulled to my feet.

"Be seeing you," I growl, and I spit blood at her. I smile at the blue sky as I'm dragged to the Green Dome.

* * *

There's a New Number Two waiting for me in the laboratory. Red hair prematurely tinged with grey, forties, glasses. He looks like a businessman. After several seconds spent studying my broken face, he tacitly orders the guards out of the room. Soon we are alone.

"Violent, aren't you?" he speaks quietly in German, never taking his eyes off of mine. I feel one of them slowly swelling shut. I'm sure it will hurt something awful when all the adrenalin and self-righteousness wear off. "I'm not quite sure you understand exactly the gravity of the situation you're in here."

I laugh. "I just think you idiots got more than you bargained for," I test my muscles against the straps of the bed. I feel powerful and triumphant.

02 is not amused. He takes a beat to gather his thoughts, and then continues. "I'm curious: what do you think makes a human being who they are? What gives someone their inherent individuality?" I watch as he picks up the vial from yesterday and fills another syringe. "It's not a face – appearances are to some degree fluid, with the use of dressing or surgery. External factors." He gestures vaguely at my swelling. "It's not a title or any sort of possession, those can be changed, lost, or sold. Even a name can be altered, made undesirable. Besides, there are any number of people with the same name. How can something so common really be what makes us singularly remarkable?"

With his needle full, Number Two sits on the side of the restraining bed.

"I think you're just burned up by the fact that I'm so much prettier than you," I grin. Blood dribbles out of the side of my mouth. He doesn't smile.

"_Memories_, Number Six," he says softly, "A constantly running record of our individual subjective experience. Everyone has millions of moments completely their own, never to be seen by anyone else. Private, special moments – thoughts we call upon in times of weakness or wavering faith. It is from this well of experience that we draw on to make all of our decisions. It's what makes us who we are. It's why we laugh, why we fight. It's how we fall in love."

A button clicks, and Shinji's face blinks into existence above me. There's a video screen of some sort.

Shinji smiles and his mouth moves, saying words I can't hear. He's talking _to_ me. This is my perspective – it must be. I see my hands flit in and out of frame like a pair of lithe, white hummingbirds. We're on a beach somewhere.

But I've never been on this beach.

"What... what is this?"

"This is yours. Two years ago, this happened to you. Ikari has just told you a secret and now you're mocking him," Number Two says. "You're very cruel to the people you care about. Not necessarily without reason, but for what it's worth, I think you're a very mean person."

My head is spinning. How did they get this footage? _It's a lie._ It has to be. Is Shinji... working with them?

No, he would never. _Never._

Two continues, "When someone is asleep, their memories are easy enough to access through their dreams. We have lots of special machines. It's not all that difficult, really. You prod the brain in a certain direction with specific external stimuli and remove whatever comes to the surface. Record, delete, continue."

He clicks again, and I see my dad.

"This is your fifth birthday. Do you remember what happened when you were five?"

I stare horrified up into my father's eyes. Groping around for any trace of recollection, I draw a blank. Number Two and I watch together as my father turns me around to reveal the Eiffel Tower.

"You went to France," Two remarks dully, and I know with the utmost certainty that I've never been to Paris. I feel nausea boil up from the pit of my stomach.

_This isn't real. Stop this._

"Now, the problem with the machine is that there's usually some scarring around the memory. Things will corrupt or come up fuzzy. Sometimes it will read dreams or very strong wishes, which is why we're not just using it to find out exactly what we want – the information might be wrong. Your brain might literally lie to us, and we obviously can't have that happen for anything important." Two has the audacity to yawn, "For deletion, however, the system works just fine. We can just cut around the material that might be sensitive."

Another click.

Kaji is smiling up at me. I think I'm in an Evangelion.

"This is your first training run at Euro division back in 2012."

Click.

Misato is playing with Pen-Pen in the kitchen. Shinji yells out a warning before she bumps into – _click_ – I fly around in a circle on a carousel. A boy sits next to me and he puts his hand on mine but I quickly – _click_ – I'm in the shower and I – _click_ – graduation day and it's sweltering in the stadium – _click_ – underwater, I surface and start toweling off, but I see Shinji and – _click_ –

"We _are_ our memories, Number Six. In fact, I wouldn't say we're much without them. So please, understand this," he puts down the clicker and gently tilts my chin over so he can stare into my eyes. His hand is ice cold. "You are not special. You are not winning. You will not escape." Two releases my chin and picks up the syringe. "Unless you start cooperating soon, I'm afraid there's a very real possibility that won't be much of you left at all. Certainly, if you choose to fight long enough, I'm sure you won't remember what you're fighting for. It's your choice really."

He slips the needle into my arm and covers the vein with a cotton swab.

"Out of curiosity," he ventures, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "how long do you think you've been here?"

"...three days..." I answer as my eyelids sink down heavily.

"Well," he chuckles, "I suppose we all tell ourselves what we must."

I slip into nothing.

* * *

_A kiss. A warm, wet kiss on the midnight of the New Year. I wasn't even planning on it – we were just the only ones out on the balcony and it's a tradition and all. I've never had a New Year's kiss. I'm buzzed, I acted without thinking, and he didn't pull away. His hand is now on my lower back and I marvel at the soft push of him kissing me back._

_It's just a traditionkiss at first, but I already feel it morphing into something else deeper. Needful. The Walls of Jericho crashing down between us. My tongue slips into his mouth, velvet and warm and alive. I let him explore what he wants. I set my glass down so I can loop my hand around his neck. He's taller than I am now. Still getting used to that._

_ God, he's so warm. He's the first thing I feel in 2019 and the sensation is completely overwhelming. Cold has disappeared. The earth has collapsed into light through which I float untethered. _

_My hand runs down the side of his face and I can feel his stubble under my fingertips and all of a sudden I realize I'm wet. _

_The door to the balcony opens and Hikari steps out. "Happy New Ye-!"_

_We push apart roughly. All the illusions are shattered and I cross my arms over my chest to protect from the cold. _

_Hikari's eyes flit between us, and she realizes exactly what's happened. "Oh..." she starts._

_There's a moment of awful silence where nobody looks at each other. I adjust the strap of my dress back up to where it should be. _

_Hikari begins, "I'm sorry, I-" _

"_Forget it." I stalk inside, too gutless to look back and see how Shinji's handing the aftermath of our second kiss._

* * *

I clutch my knees to my chest in my room and I concentrate on breathing. The sun hasn't quite crested yet – the room is filled with early morning blue. I have no memory of getting here.

I feel used. I feel violated. I feel opened up and emptied out. I'm cold and I'm so, _so_ scared.

I know they have me and I hate it. I hate that my weakness is so embarrassingly obvious.

He was the one who helped me after the Angels. He was the one who pulled me together. He was the only reason I got through the war and even if he's just a memory I need him to be there.

_What if they take him from me? What if I wake up one morning and I don't even remember his name? _

I'm ashamed by how afraid I am. I thought I was better than this weepy teenaged girl. I tell myself to soldier up, but nothing listens.

How long _have_ I been here?

_What have I already forgotten? __Is fighting them worth it?_

I tighten my mouth and I make a decision.

* * *

"What do you want to know?"

Sitting in the Green Dome, my voice is little as a newborn lamb. Number Two: the German one. The redhead. He's still here because they're finally winning. A smug smile spreads across his lips.

"There are lots of things we want to talk about," he shrugs, showing his palms. "Your contact with the final Angel is of particular interest to us. It communicated with you?"

I remember the light and the noise clear as day. I remember how Nerv tried to debrief me any number of times, and I would just shut down. Shinji wouldn't let them near me, and I loved him for it. They want to know about this? Hell, maybe they _are_ Nerv?

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. "It raped me."

"Yes, well. Be that as it may," Two removes his glasses and begins to clean the lens, "Successful contact is what we're interested in. We can remove ideas from minds, but the power to implant them with such precision is... well, intoxicating, quite frankly."

My brow furrows. "You want it for... weaponry?"

"Yes, of course," Two finishes cleaning his first lens and blows onto the second. "There are numerous other topics to discuss, however. Gendo Ikari and Instrumentality. I don't know if you're aware of this, but there are some interpretations of the Dead Sea Scrolls that predict the coming of a seventeenth-"

I grab his tie and yank him forward sharply so that his face slams the desktop. The glasses shatter. Grabbing the broken fiberglass, I twist Two's head around and make sure he's looking right at me.

"If you think that petty scare tactics are going to break me, then you've got another thing coming," I speak loudly, to make sure all their microphones and hidden cameras get every fucking syllable. Sweat drips down Two's face. "I _hate_ cages. I will not answer questions and I will never, never, _never_ stop fighting."

He screams as I plunge the shaft of the glasses deep into his left eye.

Twist.

And then it was a war.

* * *

I climb to the top of the hill overlooking the Village. It's past curfew, but I've already picked out most of the cameras and the guard's patrols are easy enough to memorize. I'm still well within the safe distance of their perimeter defenses.

For a moment, I sit on the top of the hill and I stare up at the night sky. The constellations shimmer in the darkness – a million dead stars giving hope to the black. I take a moment to remember what constellations I learned in college and trace their arcs with my finger. Then I take out my kitchen knife.

I'm trapped, and I'm frightened, but I am not going down without a fight. There is one thing I still remember: a parting gift from an old friend. The day before I got on the plane. This is my white flag.

_If I forget you, will you forgive me?_

My mouth draws into a tight line, and I dig the knife into my shoulder. Misato had told me it wasn't in that deep, but 'deep enough to avoid detection' is still an inch or so of skin and muscle. It's not fucking comfortable.

I dig a bullet-sized transmitter out of my body and pour water over the wound. I rip the sleeve of my uniform and tie it as much as I can to stem the bleeding. There's a sewing kit back at the house – I'll figure something out that won't raise too much suspicion. Hell, maybe they'll think it was some kind of half-assed suicide attempt? Those are undoubtedly pretty common in this place.

When the water is all out of the bottle and the wound is dressed, I pick up the transmitter and twist it how she showed me. There's a satisfying click and I see a small, red eye blink into existence. Right now a radio signal is transmitting from wherever the hell I am all the way to her. If Nerv hasn't murdered her, fired her, or dumped her in their own Village somewhere else, Misato will see the signal and she'll send him in running. Or at least I hope she will. If this is the sort of situation I'm in, I shudder to think of where Shinji and Misato are right now. Things weren't exactly coming up roses outside of this shithole, either.

It may come to nothing, but they'll know I'm alive and that I'm fighting, even if it's a losing battle. The thought gives me a swell of warmth.

I drop the transmitter into the bottle and put a stopper in the top. With three quick steps towards the precipice, I fling it into the ocean. I've no idea how powerful that transmitter signal is, and this place probably has some kind of radio jammer, anyway. The water is my last, best chance.

I feel a chill in the night air.

_Come and find me, Baka Shinji_._ Quick as you can._

I watch as it's tossed haphazardly around in the current, before it floats out into the bay and is lost at sea.

* * *

Where am I?

_In The Village. _

I can feel the Atlantic – taste that saltiness in the air and feel a Mediterranean breeze on my face. Architecture can deceive, but the atmosphere cannot. Europe, then. Perhaps North Africa.

Whose side are you on?

_That would be telling._

What do you want?

_information INFORMATION __**INFORMATION**_

They won't get it. I can't let them. It's the last that I have, the last they haven't stripped from me.

I don't know why they want to know, but I'm not saying anything. I've seen the broken shells of men they've led from their deeper chambers and I know in my heart that this information is my last bit of armor – the bit they dare not touch for fear it will shatter and be lost to them. My options are to resist or be destroyed. I hold to my secrecy like a shipwrecked man clinging to a raft.

You want information? You won't get it.

_By hook or by crook, we will. _

They're right. I saw an old friend of mine last week walking around with an idiot number glued to his chest and holes where his eyes should have been. He didn't recognize me, and the more I looked the more I realized that I didn't recognize him anymore either. He was a man shattered, and he had been one of our best, Missing In Action weeks ago. If they could break him, they could break me – I knew it down to my bones and I hated myself for it.

For I eventually will break, if I do not bend.

And I will not.

There's torture of all kinds, sure. They are devious and cruel and their resources are endless. I thought I escaped once, I almost spilled everything to the first warm pair of arms around my shoulders but then I smelled that Village smell on him and I knew it to be a joke.

Haha. So close.

Who are you?

_I am the New Number Two._

Another mockery. Not long ago I'd been a number two, very far away from here, in more civilized times. 'Second Child' indeed.

Who is Number One?

_You are Number Six._

I clench my hands and nails bite into my palms. I rage. I _hate_. I must destroy it all. Raze the ground and salt the earth. I won't just escape, I'll come back and I'll tear this Village down brick by bloody brick until I find a piece of mortar large and violent enough to bury in the skull of every Number Two that has ever walked the earth.

My eyes burn and my breath is acrid hate.

"I am not a number!" I scream, "I am Asuka Langley Sohryu! I am a human being!"

_Ha-ha_, says Number Two, _ha-ha-ha._

But no one can laugh forever.


	5. M: Tokyo-3, 2021

_AN: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for the kind words. __Just wanted to address a few quick things here: 'Ng' is pronounced to that it rhymes with 'ping'. Since the Angels stopped mid-cycle, the Third Impact hasn't happened, so this is actually a pre-3I fic, just a very unorthodox one. We'll get to more with that soon. Special shout-out to SolidJJ: So happy you're enjoying it! Thank you so much for all the work you do and please stay safe._

_And special apologies to Ethan, the commenter who didn't want to wait a month for a new chapter, and then had to do just that._

* * *

Am I brave?

It seems like such a stupid question, but now I'm here. I can see the blinking light and my hands are shaking like leaves.

A million feelings rush over me in the dark of my quarters, the first being that I need to extinguish this light before Ng suspects anything, but that's ridiculous. In the crushing, whirring mass of this building it must barely be a blip on his radar: it's a cell phone. It's my vibrator. There's an entire world of different things that could be making this little, hidden panel next to my bed pulse like a heartbeat in the dark. But really it's one very specific thing, and that's an incredibly talented, brave young woman calling for help.

And I'm scared, because I know the dream is about to come crashing down.

What do I do? I still technically have the authority to recall Shinji from the field, and if I act below the radar he'll get back to Tokyo-3 safe. Do I call Shinji and tell him?

He'll want to go save her, and if he manages to escape without Ng catching him he can certainly never come back. It means the end of our careers and possibly our lives. Best-case scenario: a lifetime of running from the most powerful political entity on the planet.

What if I tell Ng? _Charles_.

Let's assume for a second that Ng _isn't_ behind her disappearance. He's been slowly driving them apart since his arrival, and even if Asuka going dark was just some ridiculously serendipitous accident, he won't jump at the opportunity to get her back. So I tell him and all the truths come out. I get court martialed for Lying to a Superior Officer, Insubordination, and any other half dozen things they pin on me that are actually completely true. Firing squad's on the table. Regardless of my fate, my job is certainly vacant and Shinji is open game. Ng swipes in and sinks in his talons.

If he _is_ behind her kidnapping, I'm shot then and there and Shinji's done anyway. It's decided: don't tell Ng.

_So what if I tell no one?_ I sit and I think to myself very quietly, hair still dripping from the shower. Could she have panicked?

Unlikely. The tracker was buried in her flesh. Still, maybe Asuka will be alright if we don't do anything at all?

My fingers absently trace the edge of the scar across my chest, and I remember my father. I feel the wind bite against my face as I fall into the capsule and I see the love in his eyes as the Impact takes him.

He died to save his daughter. That's bravery.

Am I brave?

There was never really a choice at all. I shut the box next to my bed and I silence the blinking light. The next day I recall Shinji from the field.

There's no way I could possibly tell him over the phone.

* * *

"Asuka might be alive."

He doesn't quite react at first. I see something flicker across his face, but it's quickly suppressed.

He asks how I know, and I explain. I boarded the plane that flew to California to pick him up. Our return trip is one of the few times I know we won't be actively bugged, and the only time I know we'll be able to have uninterrupted dialogue.

There's a lot to talk about, but I do all the talking. Shinji sits and absorbs.

"Now, there are any number of ways we can go about this Shinji, but know beforehand that just because we have a signal does not mean we have any sort of confirmation she's... safe," I wet my lips and study his face. "We might rush there to find nothing at all. The tracker's in the ocean, so my thought was to go to where the signal originally started broadcasting. But who knows? It might have been miles off course even then."

"Are you honestly suggesting that we don't look?" There's a dark tone in his voice and he's not meeting my eyes. I can't tell what he's thinking and that scares me. When Shinji Ikari is cornered, he's nothing if not impetuous. I sit down next to him.

"Don't be ridiculous," I sigh. It's hard not to be a little hurt he still doesn't trust me. _Why don't you trust me? Is that the ghost of your father in you?_ "I'm just saying that for every action there are consequences. We should consider them before we do anything rash."

"And these are the kinds of consequences where people might die?"

"Exactly," I place a hand on his shoulder and he finally looks into my face. I try on a smile. "I'm on your side, Shinji. We're in this together."

After a second, he softens a little, too. His shoulders slouch and I can see him accept the fact that all might not be lost.

"She might be alive..." Hope seeps into him and he smiles quietly in the belly of the plane. I tip him over so he falls into my shoulder and for a second he lays there as the machine flies onwards through the black of the night.

"Misato, what if she's alive?" He's warm. I can feel the waver in his voice and I know he's afraid.

"Then we're all in for a world of trouble."

* * *

There are only a few places in the Nerv Tower I know to not have ears. My favorite is the sauna. They tried and they tried but the bugs just don't work with the steam. Thank heaven for small miracles.

For some reason it reminds me of when I used to know Ritsuko. I miss her sometimes – the woman I thought was my friend, anyway. It's hard to keep a part of her memory warm. It sneaks up on me when I least expect it.

The sauna brings out the good parts of my memories of Akagi Ritsuko. I let the vindictive bitch she was fall to the side and bask in the sweetness of her remembered company. Drinks at the bar, coffee with Kaji, stuff like that. Kaji always liked Ritsuko.

"What about Rei?"

I open my eyes at the ceiling. Shinji's on the other side of the divider. I was hoping he would never ask.

I sigh mightily, "Shinji..."

"We're not just leaving her here, Misato. We can't."

"She's lost, Shinji. She's gone to us," _Collateral damage,_ I think bitterly. A poor girl swallowed by the massive military-industrial machine. The military part of my brain counts her as personnel already dead. "We should focus on saving people who can actually be saved."

"She's suffering, and it'll be worse for her once we leave." There's finality in his voice that won't be argued with; it's another inherited trait from Gendo. "Please. We can't just abandon her."

Water drips. I think of Rei and those dead, deer eyes of hers that just bore into you. I've never felt the kinship that Shinji shares with her, but she does have my pity. Can I condemn a girl to spend the rest of her life in torment so I can run?

_Run and hide, brave little soldier girl._ Something my dad used to say. A game we played when I was young. _Run and hide out until the bombs stop falling._

I take a massive breath of steam into my lungs.

I don't feel very brave right now. He would always find me, anyway. It was a game that was impossible to win – just wait until you were caught. Kind of a sick game really, in retrospect. _Would Kaji have rescued her? _

"You're right. I suppose it can't be helped." I breathe out and let the gears in my brain start turning.

Rescuing Rei is psychopathic. Nerv is too massive and smart to trick twice – it means a two-prong plan that has to happen simultaneous to the rescue of Asuka.

Assuming of course that Asuka is still where her tracker originated and _if_ she's alive to be rescued, then while Shinji's there taking care of whatever is imperiling her I have to be here taking care of Rei. It means a maximum-security breakout from the heart of the most monitored building in the world.

It's impossible. Complete lunacy. Suicide mission. Too many variables, too much danger, eyes and ears and guns guns guns. You're stuck in metal corridors and even if you get out the front door you're marooned in enemy territory. I've been a spy for four years, can I finally become a soldier again?

Some time passes before I open my mouth. I'm sure he can hear the smile in my voice.

"You know, this might be total madness, but I actually might have a plan..."

* * *

"Yes, sir. Routine reconnaissance."

Ng looks at the paperwork in his hand and is giving me the illusion that he's not paying attention. It's a strategy designed to work twofold: it puts me off guard so I might slip and reveal more than I should, and it reminds me who's in charge. I don't fall for his simpleton ploy. The truth is Ng is _always_ paying attention.

"Ikari isn't necessary for reconnaissance. He's a pilot. You go on the plane and Ikari will remain here."

"Sir, respectfully, I think Shinji should start considering expanding his skill set. He's getting a bit old to be in the field."

Ng sighs and sets down the papers on the desk. "These children are brute instruments, Katsuragi. Regardless of your affections for the boy, you don't use a hammer to write a symphony," He points his finger at me and I fantasize about breaking it in half. "Reconnaissance takes a degree of subtlety that will always be beyond the Ikari ilk. Be reasonable. You go on the plane and he can stay here on patrol."

My mouth twitches. The plan is failing and it hasn't even started yet. Time for a desperation bid.

"Sir, I think he's close to cracking up." This catches Ng's attention. "He keeps talking about Asuka. He won't_ stop_ talking about her. I think what he needs is time away from his old assignments. They were pilots together from the beginning. I'm sure it makes him think of her and it's depressing him."

"Still? After all this time?" Ng sighs, leaning back in his chair. He reaches for a half empty mug nearby. "My lord, they're really holding on to this stupid puppy love, aren't they?" He laughs and I wonder if he's ever felt a trace of human warmth in his entire goddamn life. _Puppy love_. You stupid fuck. I force myself to smile at his joke.

His tea is cold, and he makes a face before walking over to his microwave to reheat it. "Katsuragi! I knew there was a reason I promoted you. The CEO should best hope you don't go into politics, or I'd tell him we have one persuasive monster on our hands!" The molecules in his drink light themselves on fire and Ng laughs heartily. He removes the tea from the machine and waves his hand. "Alright, you've convinced me. Send the boy away on his plane and fly him over somewhere pretty. Preferably without much red on the ground, eh?"

I bow curtly and thank him for his time, before I walk out of his office forever. I hope the next time I see him I get to put a bullet in his face.

* * *

Shinji and I are standing on the runway of the plane. It's night, and the propellers are blowing his hair around like a hurricane. It's too loud to speak, and I'm sure we're being monitored anyway.

I stare at his face and place my hand on his shoulder. I want to tell him how mature he looks – how much he's grown and how proud I am of him. He looks like a man, not at all the scrawny boy that got into my car back in 2014.

I want to tell him that he reminds me of my father, and of Kaji, and of all the brave men I've ever known in my life. I want to tell him that I love him, and that if I never see him again I feel as though my heart will break. He's like a brother, he's like a son, he's a dear friend to me and I've seen him grow so much and I'm _proud_.

But I can't say that. He wouldn't hear me anyway. I place my forehead against his and feel his courage. _Give me strength to do what I can_.

After a moment, I pull back and smile. "Good luck!" I shout.

Shinji smiles at me, and for what might perhaps be the first time I see him salute me.

"You too, Colonel Misato!"

The plane doors shut and the both of us are on our own.

* * *

21:30 and I'm in the armory counting cameras. The idiot over the counter is staring down my shirt and I'm letting him. I'm not an unattractive woman, and he's forgetting to ask my why I need all these guns so late at night.

I outrank him anyway.

"This is... um... all for the firing range, ma'm?" He feebly asks as he hands over the four grenades I asked for.

I clip them into my belt and tighten the vest.

"Can never be too prepared," I smile and wink at him. This corporal will be a private in the morning.

But by then he'll outrank me, I'm sure. The minute I step out the door I'm running and I know I'll be panicking for what may very well be the rest of my life.

* * *

21:50 and my heart is pounding in my ears. Rei clings to my arm like a limp rag doll and stumbles along halfheartedly. I'm practically dragging her.

Another corner and there are two more soldiers waiting right in front of us. I raise the gun and fire before they even manage to turn around. _Fourteen dead._

Rei absently wipes the blood off of her face. "Children..." she muses, looking down at them. They _were_ young. They all are.

Looking back and forth, this is as good a spot as any. I drag the older soldier into the room next to us and toss a satchel bag full of clothing into her chest.

"Get changed quickly. We have maybe two minutes before we have to run again." I clutch at my hand to stop it from shaking.

"I didn't ask to be rescued," Rei says quietly behind me. She's not changing. "I'm not worth the–"

"Blame Shinji," I growl at her. I'm crouching over the body and trying to use his radio. _Do they know where we are? They must by now._ "I'm not joking, Ayanami! Change right now! That's an–"

Bullets clip against the doorframe to the right of my head and shower me with sparks. I spin and return fire blindly down the hallway. _Why was this a good plan, again?_ I eject the clip. My hands falter as they try to jam another into the bottom of the gun. On the third try I get it. _Pull yourself together, Misato. Bravery._

When I look back over, Rei's pulling on the top. She clicks the button on her wrist and the plugsuit pulls taut over her emaciated body. She blinks down at her garb.

"Are we stealing an Evangelion?" Rei asks me, coolly. I know Rei well enough to detect her tone is dubious at best.

I spin to look into her eyes. "First of all: yes, you _are_ worth this. You are _all_ worth this. You deserve to live a life outside of this disgusting metal cage, because there are blue skies and beautiful worlds out there, so you are going to see them if it fucking kills me."

Turning, I toss a grenade down the hallway in the direction that the heaviest fire is coming from. There's a scream as it explodes, and the hallway is clear.

"Secondly, yes we are, because we are insane. Do you remember how to pilot?"

Rei stares at me for a beat before she kicks her imprisonment scrubs into the corner of the room.

"Yes," she says quietly. "Where do we go once we're in the Evangelion?"

"I don't really know," I say, laughing. "They can fly now. Is there anywhere you've always wanted to visit?"

For a second, I swear that the ghost of a smile passes over her face. "The moon."

I smile at her as I reload my gun. There are fourteen floors between us and the docking bay. Now that the whole place is on alert that means forty some odd soldiers in full battle rattle. Locked doors, mines maybe. If we make it past all of them, that means we have to jack a Ready To Launch Eva. If there's an RTL in the docking bay that will sync with Rei, and if they haven't already rescinded my launch codes, we _might_ just have a chance of getting out of this alive. And then onwards to the moon.

I cock my gun. "You ready?" I ask her, handing her a handgun and a knife. I don't think Rei's ever even fired a real gun, but if I go down I want to give her a fighting chance. It's probably not that different from doing it in the Eva.

Without warning, I see Rei pull her long blue hair taut. Neglect and prison have let it grow to her mid back. Taking a knife and with a single, swift motion, she hacks the length of it off. It falls down to the cold tile around her.

"Let's run," she suggests.

And then we're running again.


End file.
